Backpacking the Great Northwest

Just got back from the greater area where my buddy Michael and I lugged our packs up 3,723 feet of elevation.

The trip turned out to be more like two days in the gym on the stair-stepper, rather than a beautiful trip through the woods. Don't get me wrong it was BEAUTIFUL, but the elevation gain was so extreme and switchbacks so relentless that nearly all my attention was focused on hiking rather than the scenery. 

I started the day waking up on a hammock in my friends back yard, which is also the Stilliguamish river. It was serene with fresh air and the sound of the water flowing by until he woke me saying 'Adam; time to get up, it's raining'. I agreed- probably not the best way to start a day of hiking, with early morning thundershowers soaking me to the bone. So we went inside and collected our gear and headed to breakfast.

is definitely a trucker/meth-head town, but that also comes with trucker diners, which always have kick ass breakfasts. So, before heading to the woods I started with biscuits and gravy, and then we walked down the street for some espresso. Now we were ready.

We headed up towards Verlot in Michaels 67 Volvo wagon. We cruised in style past Verlot, Silverton and Redbridge. At last we came to our trail head at the base of Mt.Dickerman .

After loading up our packs we headed up the hill. The switchbacks start at the bottom and never really stop. I'm hoping somebody could do the math for me on this one and calculate the slope-  3723 feet of elevation in 4.3 miles.

The forest was considerably lush for mid-July, streams still trickled across the trail, moss still damp on the sidelines. We climbed up through the evergreen forest, punctuated with Cedar and so many varieties of ferns that I totally lost track. We stumbled across some strange yellow fungus in the middle of the trail- I thought that someone had thrown up some marshmallow Peeps, but Michael touched it to confirm it was just fungus and not vomit.

We waged war on that trail, but the trail kept winning. After crossing an enticing waterfall that bounced off rocks into silver splatters below, our boots hit snow. We crossed melting snow field after melting snow field. 

Soaked and ready for camp we reached the alpine meadows just a mile below summit about 3 hours before sunset.

Setting up camp was a cinch after we found a snow-less spot that was relatively flat and rock-less (which was no easy task to find at that altitude.) After the tent was up and food was eaten, we pushed for the summit.

More switchbacks, more snow. At this point on the trail though, we were above the tree-line so the views really started to open up.

Once we reached the top the view spread out 360 degrees. Peaks above clouds in every direction. Visibility fresh enough for a look a . We took about 30 minutes to take it all in as the bugs consumed us. We figured that the bugs would run out of steam once we hit the top, but no such luck. The damp mountain seemed to be the perfect breeding ground for those little buggers.

On the descent, survival became more of a factor as the sun began to set. We hoofed it for a rocky ledge that we had passed on the way up, where we could take in the peak of the sunsets pinks and reds that splashed the ends of the horizon.

Night eventually fell so we donned our headlamps and focused on a careful descent to camp. Aside from sore ankles and legs, the rest of the way was uneventful in the dark. Exhaustion set in quick at camp, sleep came fast.

The next morning I woke up early. After milling about a bit, watching pre-dawn bring up the sun, I started some coffee on the stove and got to hiking back down the mountain for water. I figured I might as well get it taken care of so we’d have enough for breakfast. Since Michael was still asleep it would be a good way to kill some time.

Water was A LOT further away then I remembered it being. I probably hiked 2 miles (roundtrip) for it. And given the slope of the trail, this was no easy task. I finally made it to the water fall and filled up; but not before cursing the idea a thousand times. Why didn’t I just go without coffee? I guess it just didn’t seem right to spend all that time hiking and get no coffee.

After making it back to camp, eating, breaking down camp, and sun bathing for awhile, we finally headed back down.

Lots of people coming up the mountain; pain all over their faces. With gravity on our side this time we were able to go a lot faster, enjoying the scenery a little less so we could focus on staying on the trail a little more.

We managed to make it down with no major accidents, and only one stop for drinking water.

Arriving at the trailhead felt like euphoria, finally safe from the pains in my legs and feet. Plopping in the Volvo, we coasted leisurely back into town.